


The Ninth Day of Christmas: The Defiling of a Sweater (Dec 18 Cont.)

by araliya



Series: 12 Days of CC Christmas 2017 [9]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Christmas Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araliya/pseuds/araliya
Summary: Certain things happen while Chris is wearing a rather suggestive sweater.





	The Ninth Day of Christmas: The Defiling of a Sweater (Dec 18 Cont.)

**Author's Note:**

> Voila: due to popular demand, have some Christmas porn.
> 
> P.S. This is my first time writing PWP so tell me what you think hahahah!

Darren moans underneath him as Chris works his way down his neck, nose brushing the coarse hair there. He sucks a rough bruise into the skin above his clavicle, and Darren bucks up into him involuntarily, hands coming up to grab at Chris’ waist.

 

“ _Jesus_ , Chris-”

 

Chris silences him with a kiss to his lips, licking into his mouth and finding his tongue. Both of his hands wander down to the buttons of Darren’s impossible onesie, making quick work of them as lips slide against lips until Chris has Darren panting into his mouth.

 

Chris can feel Darren hard against the inside of his thigh, and he rubs down for a moment, savoring the feeling of hot hardness through thin material against his bare skin. Darren scrambles to get out of the sleeves of his onesie, breaking the kiss to nudge Chris up further onto his knees so he can pull it down his torso and off his legs.

 

Chris links his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and tugs, Darren’s cock springing free and curving up to his abdomen, flushed and hard. Darren kicks of his boxers as well, and then he’s naked, and beautifully so. Chris aches to take him into his mouth and lick at the beads of wetness already forming there, but he’s got something else in mind.

Darren’s hands slide up his bare thighs to the hem of the sweater he’s wearing, and Chris stops him, pressing a kiss to his mouth before whispering, “It stays on,” voice low and hoarse.

 

Darren nods in compliance, and Chris takes Darren’s left hand into his own, guiding it behind him, encouraging Darren’s fingers to dip down lower, lower, lower, until-

 

“Are you trying to kill me, Chris?” Darren groans when they meet their mark, eyes dark and fixated on his bruised lips. Chris is slick and wet down there, having prepped himself in the bedroom before Darren came home.

 

“Not at all, baby,” Chris breathes, head falling against Darren’s shoulders as the blunt pressure of Darren’s fingers appears at his entrance, tracing the tight skin, and then finally, finally breaching the first ring of muscle. Long, talented fingers probe upwards to that one spot that has Chris keening and panting into Darren’s neck.

 

Suddenly he can’t wait any longer, and he’s lifting himself up off Darren’s fingers and taking his cock into his hand, maneuvering himself so that he’s in a better position to line Darren up against himself.

 

“Stop for a sec, hon,” Darren whispers, gripping Chris’ waist tight as he licks his palm and strokes himself a couple of times, so that he’s slick with a mixture of spit and precome. “Okay, now.”

 

Chris clutches Darren’s shoulder with one hand and holds Darren’s cock in place with the other as he sinks down slowly. His head falls back as thick hardness presses into him, a slow burn flooding through him as he takes him inch by inch until Darren’s bottomed out and Chris’ chest is heaving.

 

“Alright?” Darren asks tenderly, stroking up and down his thigh until Chris is coherent enough to nod. Doing it this way is always hardest at the beginning, but tends to feel better as they get used to it.

 

“Move,” Chris gasps, once the burn has faded out and has been replaced with the heavy throb of pleasure. Darren begins to thrust shallowly, holding Chris a couple of inches above him so that there’s space to move. He steals several searing kisses before resting his head against Chris’ chest.

 

It’s strangely hot to feel the wool of the sweater rubbing against his skin in tandem with Darren’s hands and cock. Chris’ back arches until he’s gripping Darren’s thigh behind him for support, while lifting himself up Darren’s length until he reaches the head, and then dropping back down, over and over and over.

 

Darren pants underneath him, pushing the sweater up to take Chris’ cock into his hand. His hand twists up the shaft, thumb swiping over the head, which is blushing rose. Chris whines quietly, bucking forward into Darren’s hand before working himself down onto Darren’s cock.

 

The air is thick with the sound of skin against skin and lips against lips, growing faster and faster until Chris is letting out a steady stream of  _uh uh uh_  noises, growing more and more desperate until he’s spilling and jerking over Darren’s fist. Darren moans at the sight, stroking Chris through the aftershocks before letting go and pulling Chris flush against him as he comes, hot and fast and wet inside of him.

 

The rhythmic thud of his heartbeat echoes through his body, and Chris is pretty sure Darren can hear it too, from where his head is resting on Chris’ chest.

 

“Holy shit,” breathes Darren slowly, once they’ve come down from their high. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to look at this sweater ever again and  _not_  remember what we just did.”

 

Chris grins and burrows his nose further into Darren’s neck.

 

“That was  _absolutely_  the point.”


End file.
